


What they need

by mrsfizzle



Category: NCIS
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentor Fic, Parental Jethro Gibbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24058057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsfizzle/pseuds/mrsfizzle
Summary: (Gibbs to Abby) "I'd hate to start smacking you like I do Dinozzo." This scene is the reason why we never see him make good on his threat. Mentorfic. One-shot.
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs & Abby Sciuto
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	What they need

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime after 3x5, Switch. The case referenced in this story isn't meant to correspond to any particular episode's case.

"Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs!"

Gibbs bit back a sigh as he entered the forensics lab. He'd let Abby have too much caffeine. Again. "What'cha got for me, Abs?"

"I found a match on those fingerprints!"

"And?"

"Well, it's interesting. It was difficult. See, some fingerprint patterns are more common than others, and for a long time, I kept getting _separate_ partial matches for the index finger and the thumb, but the statistical likelihood of a total match was so low I didn't think it was—"

"Sometime today." His voice had more edge to it than he'd normally use with Abby, but it had been a stressful week.

"Well, I was thinking, with all the weird cases we get, wouldn't it be cool if we did get two matches? Like, something happened so that the thumb print was from one person, and the index finger was from another? But it didn't seem likely, because the positioning of the prints really seemed to indicate a single person."

"The _point?_ " He stepped to face the computer, standing beside her. Recently, he'd warned her that he might start smacking her if she couldn't focus when she reported to him. He'd also mentioned it wouldn't be on the back of the head, but that part of the threat was as empty as his threats to fire her.

"Well, there's no point to that, really, it was just kind of cool. You know, I'm down here all day by myself, the least you could do—"

" _Focus, Abby_." That was his last-warning voice.

"Okay, okay. This is your guy."

She hit the enter key, and an unfamiliar face filled the screen.

Gibbs nodded. "Alright, we'll look into him. How about that sample I sent you?"

But Abby was still staring at the computer. "Nothing yet on that. You know, he's really cute. It's funny, he looks a little bit like this guy I dated a few years back. I met him at the bowling alley, actually, which was weird because—"

Enough was enough. He smacked her.

She cringed, pressing her hand into back of her head, and went silent for a moment. Even through her thick makeup, he could see her cheeks turning pink.

Gibbs watched her, concern suddenly flooding through him. DiNozzo barely reacted to being slapped, just gasped a little from the pain and went back to work. McGee always looked a little shocked, but he quickly absorbed the reprimand and also returned to work. Ziva often huffed and asked what the slap was for.

He'd never hit Abby before. This was new.

"Um, I . . . I did run that sample." She rubbed the spot between her pigtails, then took her hand away and started typing on the computer.

"And?"

"Still analyzing the results."

"Okay, keep me updated."

She nodded and sniffed, turning away from him and wiping her face with her hand. When she looked back at the computer screen, her eyes glistened.

Gibbs swallowed. He knew he hadn't harmed her physically. He'd been intentional about exactly how hard he'd whacked her: not quite as hard as he usually hit McGee, and nowhere near as hard as Dinozzo usually needed to get the message, but harder than he'd ever hit Ziva as of yet. Gibbs was careful with Ziva—she was sensitive in ways she didn't easily reveal, and he was still figuring her out.

He'd figured Abby could take a little more—he'd warned her, after all—but not much more, since it was her first time. The pain would have been far from excruciating.

But somehow, it had hit Abby emotionally harder than any of the others.

"You okay?"

"Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Abs."

"Just because you hit me? You think I can't take—" Her voice broke off, and a tear traced its way down her face.

He said nothing. She would talk to him if he gave her space to speak; she was less likely to open up if he pushed her.

Abby sniffed again. "I don't know why I'm reacting like this. It didn't even really hurt. I mean, of course it hurt, well more like stung, but I guess stinging does hurt, but it wasn't _terrible_. I've had worse, I've even _liked_ worse."

He took a step closer.

"And I know _logically_ , I shouldn't be upset, because you hit Tony all the time—actually, you hit everyone on your team, so that just means I'm part of your team, so really I should be happy about that. Well I never saw you hit Kate, but maybe she never deserved it. But I did deserve it, for not focusing when you just _told_ me to focus—" Her voice broke, and another tear spilled down her face.

He pulled her into a tight embrace, and she clung to him.

"You've never hit me before, Gibbs," she said softly.

"I know."

"Was I that bad?"

He kept one arm around her back and lifted the other to her head, stroking gently. "No, Abs. You do good work."

She nodded and buried her face in his shoulder.

Gibbs let his eyes fall closed. He prided himself in knowing exactly what his younger team members needed. Most days, Tony needed firmly enforced boundaries, tempered by periodic reassurance that Gibbs was still proud of him; Tim needed space to be himself—a little teasing made him feel at home, but there were lines Gibbs was careful not to cross; Ziva needed a place to feel safe while using her skills in a productive way.

And they all needed a wake-up call from time to time. A slap on the back of the head was quick and to the point.

He'd miscalculated with Abby. She did _not_ need to be slapped. It took away far too much from what she really needed from him, which was the knowledge that she was cared for. Lots of agents could know Gibbs cared about them while he was lighting up their scalps. Abby couldn't. It wasn't weakness—it was just her personality.

He should have realized. He would never strike her again. He'd have to be creative if Abby needed incentive to focus, but he could do that. He could turn off her music, or restrict her caffeine intake, or make her follow the dress code . . .

Right now, she needed him to make this right. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head.

She let go of him, and he pulled back. He picked up a box of tissues from the table and held it out to her. "Have you eaten today?"

She wiped her face with a tissue. "I've had two Caf-Pows."

" _Two?_ " It wasn't even noon yet.

She pouted. "McGee wouldn't bring me a third."

Gibbs chuckled, setting back down the tissue box. "Let's get you out of the lab for a little while. I'll buy you lunch."

"Really?"

He smiled. This, he hadn't miscalculated. "You can tell me all about that guy you met at the bowling alley."

Abby grinned, walking with him to the door of the lab and jabbering all the way: "Well, there's not much to tell about that. But if you want to hear a crazy bowling story, you've got to hear about the other night, with the nuns . . ."

_The End_


End file.
